TOOK ALMOST an hour for Alex to drive from the inner city out to Sarah’s home in North Rocks. Sydney’s traffic situation was getting worse with each passing year. No matter how many motorways they built, nothing seemed to ease the congestion, or the delays. But the level of his frustration when he finally pulled up outside the house he’d bought his sister some years back was not due to road rage but rage of a different kind.
Gritting his teeth, he jumped out from behind the wheel and stormed through the front gate, bypassing the front door and making his way hurriedly round to the back of the house to the entrance to the granny flat. The one-bedroomed very comfortable flat accommodated his father, his useless, drunken father, whom Sarah had kindly taken in but with whom Alex had totally run out of patience. He’d only come because Sarah had asked him to.
She was waiting for him in the doorway, startling Alex with how much she looked like his mother at around the same age. Both were petite and dark, though with blue eyes. Sarah was like her mother in nature, too, being strong and sensible. Alex loved her a lot and would do anything for her. He wasn’t as fond of her husband, Vernon, who seemed to resent the things Alex bought for his family.
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